


Please Could You Be Tender?

by ktfics



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, M/M, Post-New Dangan Ronpa V3, Smut, Virtual Reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-04-05 06:12:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19042759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktfics/pseuds/ktfics
Summary: Momota does not need a conversation right now. If Momota needed a proper conversation, he wouldn’t be living with Kokichi, who is probably one of the worst conversationalists alive, despite his love of talking.What Momota needs is an outlet; a way to forget about who he wants to be and who the media needs him to be and just relax and appreciate who he is right now for once in his life.





	Please Could You Be Tender?

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to preface this one last time by saying; if you couldn't tell by the rating or the tags, this is smut. If that makes you uncomfortable, please don't read this. Also, this fic does take place after the game and both characters are 18. Follow me on tumblr @dykeenvy if you wanna talk oumota.

“Fuck!” Kaito’s hands clench and unclench as he paces through their small apartment. “I’m so fucking sick of this! The way they treat us like- like toys!”

Kokichi hums in agreement from his spot on the couch, though he knows Momota isn’t looking for a response right now so much as he’s looking for an outlet.

“I’m just so tired of always having to put on a smile and pretend like what they fucking did to us is okay! And the way they talk to you- like you’re some big, bad villain and not a human being! And the way they talk to me, like I didn’t fucking kill you! Like I can still call myself a fucking hero! God damnit!” Momota pauses for a second, his fists hovering in the air, white-knuckled and barely restrained, before he resumes his pacing.

Kokichi glances at the poster they’d hung up on the wall after Momota had punched a hole through it. He remembers back to when Momota had struck Saihara; he remembers back to when Momota had struck him.

Momota’s ambitions have always been a double-edged sword; they make him who he is, a shooting star of a boy, unparalleled and almost too bright to look at sometimes. But they also lead to this, this culmination of all his frustrations, an impossible gap between who he wants to be and what he’s physically capable of.

Sometimes, Momota is a spark that pushes everyone into action. And sometimes, Momota is a forest fire capable of turning his own body to ash before he will admit the need for water. In either instance, the boy has a talent for letting himself burn out so as to not deprive anyone else of a light source.

Kokichi takes a second to admire the energy thrumming through Momota, the tense line of his body, the sight of his muscles flexing in preparation for a fight that isn’t coming. Back in the game, even Momota’s moments of violence had demonstrated some restraint; Kokichi knows that even with his illness, Momota could have hit him a lot harder than he did. Not to mention that Saihara probably could have been knocked out with one blow if Momota had really been looking to hurt him.

Kokichi knows what someone looks like when they want to inflict pain, and Momota has only ever attempted to use violence when he thought his words weren’t getting through to someone; however misguided that may be, Kokichi would like to think by now that a person’s intentions do matter.

But Kokichi has also seen Momota’s audition tapes. He knows from his own experiences that their past selves are not completely gone, they’ve simply been buried underneath the memories of their second lives, and every now and then the ugliest parts of them pop up from the rubble to remind them that they are not what they were supposed to be. To remind them that they are fractured.

Kokichi remembers how Momota had held back when hitting him during the game, but he also remembers watching Momota’s fist sail straight through their drywall, every part of his body leaning into the blow, teeth grit and muscles clenched and eyes shut tight around angry tears.

No, Momota does not need a conversation right now. If Momota needed a proper conversation, he wouldn’t be living with Kokichi, who is probably one of the worst conversationalists alive, despite his love of talking. Momota is living with Kokichi because they are both fond of action, because they both have that same inescapable energy running through them.

What Momota needs is an outlet; a way to forget about who he wants to be and who the media needs him to be and just relax and appreciate who he is right now for once in his life. Kokichi is not going to sit here and watch him burn out once again; they’ve got the rest of their lives ahead of them to live, and Kokichi has decided that since the two of them were the death of each other once before, they’re going to learn how to do that together. And thankfully, as he so often does, Kokichi has a plan.

The first step of it may be just a bit self-indulgent, though.

“Momota-chan, do you trust me?” Momota doesn’t stop his pacing, but he does look back at Kokichi with a confused expression.

“What? Yeah, of course I do. Why are you askin’?” Kokichi smiles and thinks back to when Momota wouldn’t have even given him the time of day. They both know better now.

Momota does stop pacing when he spots the grin curling across Kokichi’s face. “Oh, god, what exactly are you planning?”

Maybe they know each other a bit too well.

“Ah, come now Momota-chan, since when is trust conditional?” The other boy just narrows his eyes at him. “Not all of my plans are designed to harm, you know.”

Kokichi hops off of the couch and grabs on to one of Momota’s still-clenched fists, ignoring the grumbled “are you sure about that?” under his breath as he starts tugging him into the bedroom they share more often than either of them would care to admit.

Regardless of his doubt, Momota doesn’t speak again until Kokichi gives him a gentle shove back onto their bed and unceremoniously clambers into his lap.

“Wha- what are you doing?” Kokichi’s grin only widens at the breathlessness in Momota’s voice. He reaches up to cup a hand around the other boy’s face, and lets out a pleased hum when Momota seems to unconsciously lean into his touch.

“You know what I think, Momota-chan? I think you think too much. That’s my job, remember?” Kokichi’s hand slides back to tangle in the fine hairs at the nape of Momota’s neck. “It’s your job to do the feeling, isn’t it?”

“I- uh-” Momota swallows, his eyes nervously darting from Kokichi’s mouth to his unwavering gaze. “I guess.” His voice is low and scratchy from his previous shouting, though his irritation seems to be slowly fading.

Kokichi leans in even further. It isn’t the first time they’ve been close like this; no, the first time they got this close was when Momota had cradled one side of his body as he took his last steps towards the press. This isn’t even the second or third time they’ve been close like this, because they’ve slept in this very bed together on and off for the past few weeks, despite the second bedroom that occupies their apartment.

“You sure you trust me?” Momota nods, and though this is decidedly not the first time they’ve been this close, this is the first time that Kokichi has followed through on their closeness to brush his lips against the other boy’s.

Kokichi can feel Momota gasp against his mouth, and he is still underneath him for only a moment before his hands tentatively reach up to settle on Kokichi’s hips, like he’s not quite sure if he’s allowed to. Cute.

Kokichi has realized that as much as he loves making plans, they turn out even better when Momota is there to follow them through with him.

He allows Momota to deepen the kiss between them, to press their lips together a bit more insistently, for only a moment, before steadying his hands on the other boy’s chest and leaning back.

“Now, now. What did I just say about thinking? You don’t need to try so hard, Momota-chan. Not around me.” Momota’s brows furrow in confusion, but Kokichi just places a kiss on the wrinkle that forms before pushing forward with a light pressure until Momota gets the idea and leans back fully into the bed.

“Come on, it must be hard, having to play the hero all the time, always having to support everyone else.” Kokichi gently peels Momota’s hands off of his hips and presses them down into the bedsheets. “Let me take care of you,” he purrs.

“I don’t need you to-” Momota’s voice is hushed, but there’s no sign of an actual protest behind his words.

Kokichi cuts him off with a kiss against his lips, and then another on his forehead, and another on his cheek, unable to resist now that he’s finally allowed to do this. “I know. But it’s okay to want. Everyone deserves to be a little selfish from time to time.”

He grinds down, suddenly, and Momota gasps and shudders. “I want-,” the words stumble out of his mouth as if he wasn’t actually planning on saying them, “I want to kiss you.”

Kokichi smiles, and grants his request. He enjoys the feeling of Momota’s lips sliding against his, the feeling of the other boy’s urgency, his eagerness, the way his mouth opens up beneath his and allows for his tongue to slip in, for just a few more moments, until Momota’s hands return back to his hips.

“Momota-chan, I’m taking care of you right now, remember? Lie back, trust me to pace this.” Momota’s eyes flutter shut and his hands return to his sides, and Kokichi can’t help placing a kiss against each of his eyelids.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” he mutters out. “I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”

Kokichi presses another kiss to the side of his jaw. “You say that like this is a chore to me.” Momota barks out a laugh, and Kokichi can feel the rumble of it against his lips. “Besides, I think we both know what happens when you decide you can take care of yourself.”

“Maybe, but I’m not, like, dying or whatever this time around.” Kokichi just hums and starts brushing a trail of kisses down Momota’s neck, enjoying how the other boy shivers in response to his gentleness.

“Maybe not! But that doesn’t mean you aren’t getting all worked up and stressed out like an idiot.” He finds a spot he likes right in the groove of Momota’s shoulder, just as his neck ends, and nips at it. Momota lets out an accidental whine that he attempts to cut off, but Kokichi hears it nonetheless. “It’s time for a little release, don’t you think? Let me do this for you.”

He thinks he feels Momota nod beneath him, but he’s a little busy sucking at the spot that he’s just bitten before moving on to another one, until there’s a garden of hickeys blooming across Momota’s collarbone. The boy shivers and pants as Kokichi smiles and goes back in to kiss each one of them.

“You’re- ah,” Kokichi bites down on an untouched area he had missed, “You’re such a goddamn tease.”

“You catch on fast, Momota-chan.” He leans back, finally satisfied with his work, and brings his hands down to play with the hem of Momota’s shirt. “Now, come on, off with this.”

Momota barely hesitates, pliantly allowing Kokichi to help him shimmy out of his shirt and toss it to the floor. “Happy?”

Kokichi doesn’t bother answering. Instead, he brushes a thumb against one of Momota’s now-exposed nipples and leans down to place his mouth on the other one, another embarrassed whine leaving the boy beneath him as he bucks into his touch.

“Fuck- Ouma-” Kokichi allows himself a few moments to suck and nip at the hardening nub in his mouth before he does the same to the other side. He leans back once more to admire what he’s done.

Momota is flushed and panting, a blush running across his chest and up to his jaw, complimenting the bruises Kokichi had left on his neck quite nicely. His eyes are lidded, his mouth slightly open as he attempts to catch his breath. Flustered has always been a good look on him, and this is no exception.

Kokichi leans forward to press a kiss against his lips once more, though he keeps this one chaste. “How about we get to the good part, hmm, Momota-chan?”

“What’s that?” His voice is slightly hoarse from the sounds he’s been trying to hold back.

Kokichi’s hands drift down once more, this time to linger at the waistband of Momota’s pants.

“You let me suck you off.” A high-pitched mewl leaves the other boy’s mouth.

“Hah- Ouma- God, you-” He already looks overwhelmed in the best way possible, and they’ve barely even started. Good; the less Momota is able to overthink, the better.

Kokichi climbs off of Momota’s lap fully to tug at his pants as a reminder. “Well? Can I?”

Momota nods, just a bit frantically, and starts fumbling at his zipper with his own hands before Kokichi gently pushes them to the side and finishes the job himself. Momota seems to calm underneath him as he remembers that the only thing Kokichi wants him to be doing right now is feeling.

He slides Momota’s pants off all at once and takes a second to appreciate the sight of him, half-hard in his boxers, before he gently pats at one of Momota’s shoulders.

“Scoot up a bit.” Momota complies, and moves up until his head is on their pillows. Kokichi settles back in between his legs, putting his hands on the boy’s knees to keep them spread, and leans down to place a kiss on Momota’s clothed cock.

Momota bucks into the sensation, and Kokichi finds he’s tired of waiting and finally tugs Momota’s boxers off all at once and tosses them to meet the rest of his clothes on the floor.

He leans back yet again to fully appreciate the other boy. He’s beautiful, really. Tanned with muscle all over, a body built for violence now occupied by a personality built for love. Kokichi enjoys the sight of him, shivering in anticipation, completely naked in contrast to the fact that Kokichi has yet to take off a single article of clothing. His cock is pretty too, flushed and thick and almost completely hard.

Kokichi hums, pleased at his work so far, and leans in once more. He considers placing another kiss on the tip of Momota’s cock, before he decides that both of them have had enough teasing and takes in as much of his length as he can at once.

“Fuck! Oh my god, Kokichi-” Momota’s hips thrust up slightly, but his hands remain clenched in the bedsheets as they’re supposed to, and Kokichi takes what the other boy gives him.

He slides his mouth off the boy’s cock with a pop, before immediately going down on him once more. He works up a slow, steady rhythm, enjoying the breathy moans now consistently leaving Momota’s mouth, and pauses only to hollow his cheeks and swallow around him.

Right as Momota’s voice begins rising both in volume and desperation, Kokichi stops his movements entirely.

Momota’s eyes blink open, small tears beaded in the corners of them, and looks up at Kokichi, dazed. “Wha-” He swallows, but can’t seem to form any actual words other than “please.”

Kokichi smiles, and reaches into their bedside table, pulling out a small bottle of lube and a condom. “Can I keep taking care of you, hero?” He settles back into his place between Momota’s legs, and pushes the boy’s knees up towards his chest.

Momota groans as he realizes what Kokichi is planning. He automatically brings his own hands up to his knees and holds the position Kokichi has just placed him in, finally fully obedient. “Hah- yeah, I want,” he swallows, trying to collect himself. “Please.”

Kokichi pumps out a handful of lube and watches Momota squirm as he gives it a second to warm up, before brushing a finger against his rim and gently smoothing a hand along one of his thighs.

“Have you ever been touched here?” Momota shakes his head when he’s able to register the question.

“I’ll go slowly, then.” Momota whines at his words. “Relax.” He sinks the tip of his finger into the other boy. “I know what you need. All you have to do is lie back and take it. Let me handle this, there’s nothing to worry about anymore.”

Momota stills once more, and Kokichi feels his body relax completely underneath him. Soft pants and unbridled moans keep leaving his mouth as Kokichi stretches him open, slowly inserting a second finger, and then a third, taking his time to enjoy the passiveness of a boy that has spent his entire life sacrificing himself for others. A boy that he has found himself undeniably attached to. A boy that saved his life, despite taking it first.

Momota is the only person in this world that has gotten to know him and still wanted to know more. He’s the only person who has ever fully realized the jumbled-up rotten mess of a person that is Ouma Kokichi and still decided that he was worth dying for, and worth living with too.

The least Kokichi wants to do for him is this; if Momota can somehow want to live with him, then he’s determined to help the other boy learn how to live with himself. He wants to be able to spend the rest of the lives they’ve gotten back together, without any excess frustration or worry. He wants to eat meals with Momota, and hold his hand, and replace his hair gel with paint, and maybe occasionally fuck him into oblivion.

Even if Momota’s not technically the Ultimate Astronaut anymore, Kokichi has decided he’s still going to help him see stars.

Kokichi presses all three of his fingers up against Momota’s prostate at once, and the other boy arches up and silently screams underneath him. “Please, please, I want you-”

Kokichi tsks. “Geez, so impatient, Momota-chan. But if you insist.” The truth is, Kokichi can feel his own neglected cock pulsing in his pants, and he eagerly strips off his own clothes at Momota’s insistence.

He slips on the condom and applies another pump of lube, hissing at the contact he’s finally allowed himself, and looks up to see Momota’s lidded gaze fondly drinking in his body.

“What?” He asks, smiling at the softness in the other boy’s eyes.

“Nothin’, just- you’re pretty.” Kokichi blushes and shifts forward to press his cock up against Momota’s entrance.

“You think so?” Momota throws his head back and pants.

“Yeah. I- I want to see more of you sooner. Next time.” Kokichi hums and starts to sink into him, just as slow as he’s been this entire time.

“That could be arranged.” Momota shivers and bucks underneath him and once again loses his ability to form proper sentences.

“Fuck, more, you gotta-” Kokichi’s hips jerk as Momota moans and tightens. “Please,” he slurs out.

And, well, how could he say no to such a polite request?

He finally snaps his hips all the way into Momota, pressing flush against his pelvis, before jerking back out again and thrusting in immediately. Momota whines, his mouth falling open as if to wordlessly plead for more.

Kokichi can’t stop thinking about how pretty he is like this, vulnerable in a way that he never has been with anyone else, unrestrained and unafraid. He’s beautiful, and bright, and so, so good, and he’s allowed himself to be open like this, to be human like this, with Kokichi.

A rush of pleasure coils up in Kokichi’s gut quick enough to make him lose himself, and he lets out a whine of his own, finally breaking composure.

He speeds up and starts pounding at Momota’s prostate, his cock entering the other boy at an erratic pace, and Momota whines and bucks and moans. Kokichi allows him to let go of one of his knees to grasp onto his shoulder and pull him into a sloppy kiss.

“I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum- Can I-” Momota separates from Kokichi’s mouth, a string of saliva connecting them, his words frantic, before cutting himself off with a low moan as Kokichi starts thrusting into him even harder.

“Go ahead. Cum for me, Kaito.” The other boy lets out a shout and a mewl at his words and jerks beneath him, cumming across his stomach as soon as he’s given permission.

Kokichi follows soon afterwards, the feeling of Momota tightening and the sight of his blissed-out expression sending him over the edge.

For a few moments, neither of them move as they both catch their breath, before Kokichi slides out of him and ties off the condom, tossing it in the trash can and grabbing a couple of tissues to wipe off the boy’s stomach as well.

When Kokichi finishes cleaning him up, Momota is still panting, his eyes unfocused, and he has to unbend his knees for him before crawling up to lean into his side and tossing an arm across his broad chest.

“Heya,” he whispers.

Momota blinks and turns to face him, slowly nuzzling into his arm and placing one of his own hands on Kokichi’s hips.

“Hey,” he whispers back, voice still hoarse.

“How was that?” Momota lets out a small laugh.

“It was- good. I didn’t think- I didn’t think I could feel like that. I haven’t been this relaxed in weeks.” Kokichi smiles and lets his eyes drift shut.

“Would you say it was out of this world?” Momota groans, and lightly pushes his forehead against Kokichi’s.

“You’re fuckin’ terrible.” They both laugh at that.

“I thought you just said I was good?” Momota contemplates his statement for a second.

“You’re the goddamn worst, and you somehow always know exactly what I need, and I think I might love you.” Momota falls asleep seconds after muttering those words, leaving Kokichi to blink up at the ceiling for a minute before allowing himself to relax back into Momota’s embrace.

Love, huh? Well, at least they can finally agree on something.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes this is top Kokichi propaganda. Yes I'm right. Thank you for reading, comments are appreciated!


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